-Hungry, Hot and Heavy-
by Fawkes'Flame123
Summary: When Derek Hale first returns to Beacon Hills there are a million things going through his mind. What happens in the days leading up to Scott's bite? Upon hearing the cries of a specific other, is Derek reunited with an old love and allowed the thing he wishes for the most? Acceptance. [Check out my OC's before reading and I don't own Derek Hale.] A Derek Hale/ OC one shot.


I trudged through the rain. Tears streamed down my face, mixing in with the icy, bitter cold rain drops that drenched my face. I pushed back my hair in frustration. Thunder rumbled overhead, like an angry and violent roar from the heavens accompanied by piercing lightening which sliced through the dark, dreary, dull clouds. A harsh and cutting wind hit me as I walked along the path. Old whispers and screams seemed to echo in my ears as the winds bit and scratched at my face. Ignoring the fact that I would probably get ill soon, I walked on through the woods. Trees shot up in all directions, old bark, now slippery with rain. Dead and decaying leaves crunched under the soles of my boots as I walked through the almost dying forest. A mist settled around the floor of the forest as fog began to clog up my vision but that didn't bother me. I knew exactly where I was. Sighing, I found myself staring at the broken, burnt, dark and crumbling ruins of a house; I'd once lived when I was younger. Standing there, staring at the house – brought a sob up to my throat. I walked up the front, staring up at the charred remains. I stepped up the steps to the front, pushing on the door. The door swung open and the open plan space seemed to stare back at me. In front of me was where the living room used to be; to the left were stairs that spiralled upwards, leading to bedrooms and bathrooms. Well what was left of the stairs, behind the living room, there used to be a kitchen and to the left of that a back room. On the right of the kitchen were doors that led deeper into the house. Right at the top of the house was an attic that we used to use. I walked into the living room and leaned against the wall, sinking down it. I brought my knees up to my chin and tried to calm myself down.

_Creak._

My head shot up. There was someone standing in the shadows. I stood up and tried to make out who it was coming out from the doors near the kitchen. They stepped out into the light and my heart seemed to run up to my throat. My lips parted in shock and it was almost as if the world just ceased to exist. I stared at the man who was only a few steps away. He had that old, vacant smile on his face – one that hardly anyone got to see. He opened his arms and I didn't need telling twice. I dropped my bag and ran into his open arms. His strong arms wrapped around me and engulfed me in a tight, warm hug. I broke down again, shaking and before I knew it, screams were echoing around the old house. The arms around me tried to sooth me, running long fingers through my hair and stroking my back. I clutched onto his jacket as the screams left my lips, feeling my body racking under the pressure of emotional pain that surged through my body.

"I've got you," his deep, husky voice repeated over and over again as he kissed the top of my head but for some reason I kept crying. It wasn't the usual crying you see on TV. No, this was as if someone had ripped out my heart and then cut it up. I felt an eternity of pain hit me and spit out my emotions in cold, blood curdling screams. My heart was thumping as my shaking hands wrapped around his middle. I felt my shaking body melt (metaphorically) against his as he held me close, to give me some sort of comfort. I slowly calmed myself down and buried my face in his chest. My screams subsided and suddenly all that could be heard was our breathing in the old and broken house with the harsh howl of the winds and violent tumbling of the rain. I could feel his heart rate as my head rested against his chest. It picked up slightly as I left a kiss over his heart. _Thank you, _it meant.

"You're welcome," he replied as he understood. He wrapped his arms tighter around me as my small hands clutched the back of his top, under his jacket. Drawing back slightly, I looked up at him and felt his hands moving up to cup my face in his large, protective hands.

"Hi," I whispered, his green eyes searched my face hungrily, looking for signs of physical pain. I moved my face into his hand and he chuckled, moving my hair from my face, then cupping my face once more.

"Hey," he whispered back and nudged his nose against mine. I gave him a small smile and rested my forehead against his. He kissed my forehead, slowly and gently. After that he pulled me back into a hug. I felt tears spilling and dropping onto his jacket, that's when he tightened his arms as if to show me he was there.

"I didn't want to come back this year," I said, drawing back from him and walking over to the back room, looking at the charred remains of toys that my brother had once played with.

"...But I knew I had to," I whispered, knowing he would hear me. I turned around, looking over at the walls, seeing the old paintings hanging off hinges, burnt and peeling away.

"Does it help coming back every year?" he asked, still standing where we had once been hugging. He had his hands back in his pockets, watching me intently. I shrugged and looked up at the ceiling.

"Does anything help anymore?" I said sighing, "it does and it doesn't. I come back every year to just... I mean I go to the graves, but there was hardly anything left to bury. Coming back here, there is more, a magical connection. I can feel it. That helps; I know that they're somewhere, somewhere better than here. But then that reminds me that they're never coming back."

"They are somewhere better and that somewhere better allows them to watch over you," he replied, "I know you want them to come back, and I'm pretty sure they know that too. They loved you, your family, you know that don't you?"

I nodded and looked at him. My eyes started to tear up again as I showed him what I'd found. I'd come back here years and never ventured to the 'toy area' because it was too painful to do by myself. In my hands I held up the charred remains of a toy I'd given my baby brother.

"_Derek_...," I croaked, my voice breaking, pleading. My body felt as though it was about drop. As soon as I'd said his name, he rushed over and scooped my up in his arms. A new wave of tears, anger and emotion engulfed me. All I could see was what happened six years ago when I was only fifteen (Derek is two years older) and Jace was only twelve. There had been many fires that year; of course this fire was set off by entirely different people. They'd killed my parents. We'd tried to help, did everything we could but being only fifteen and twelve our magic and angel skills weren't everything they are now. We had to protect our little brother too, Logan. For a split second I had turned back to grab my sword, when he was snatched up. We chased the killers outside were they said they would spare him. I begged for him to be spared while inside my parent's bodies lay waiting to be buried. They said they would. They didn't. They killed him in front of us, set out house a light and left us there, holding onto our six year old, baby brother's dead and lifeless body while the fire ate up the only place we called home – with my parents inside. I had screamed, shouted and cursed. Nothing helped. It was too late when the police and ambulance arrived.

"I've got you, I'm not going to let anything happen to you," Derek whispered. I clung onto his jacket. My mind was racing, shaking, screaming. Since the fire, I moved to live with my godparents, who lived just off the outskirts of Beacon Hill and explained everything to me. My parents had already begun explaining bits and pieces but were cut short by their deaths. My godparents Evangeline and Alec began training Jace and I. They told us all about our witch background and what it meant exactly to be a witch and a part angel. They introduced me to others like myself and I began to feel safer with them. A new kind of family, I continued to go to school at Beacon Hill High. I'd been friends with Derek and their family since I was a small girl. Derek and I were extremely close and he'd helped me through the pain but then when his own house was burnt down, he moved away with his sister. I felt so empty when it had happened. They had been like family. Laura had been like my sister. It was heart wrenching. We still kept in touch but I never got to see them often after they moved away. Since the fires I came back every year just visit, talk and cry. I usually came alone but this time Derek found me and for that I was very glad.

"Thank you," I whispered, "I feel so bad crying like this when you went through something similar and it must hurt you as well. I'm so sorry, Derek..."

"Hey, never feel bad for crying to me okay? You can always come to me you know that. It's always been that way, I know that we haven't seen much of each other since...well since then, but I'm back now. It hurts me too, but we just have to push on. This town is about to change and I'm not sure if it's for the worse or better," Derek said. I nodded, I knew all about the hunters and the werewolves. Being a witch/shadow hunter it meant that our side would be involved too, in whatever was about to hit this town. I could tell he didn't feel ready to talk about Laura so I didn't push him.

"Let me drive you home?" he offered after a minute of silent hugging. I nodded and he slipped his hand into mine, smirking as he noticed my heart rate increase. I rolled my eyes, picking up my bag and allowed myself to be led to his car. We drove in a peaceful silence, only with the hum of the music playing in the background. He reached over and gripped my knee softly. I looked up at him, seeing him smirk again when my heart rate increased. I rolled my eyes again and he chuckled quietly. Derek and I had never dated, I mean I'd liked him but never actually told him and then he got in with Kate and it all got very complicated. Details - that were too long and painful to talk about the moment.

"So are you back for good?" I asked. He glanced over at me and then back at the road, turning down a long winding path.

"Yeah, you know the police are investigating Laura's death? I came back just last night. Then this morning was when I heard you crying, I knew where you were straight away," he said, his voice cracking when he said '_Laura'._ I leaned over and kissed his cheek, wiping away a fallen tear. He smiled and pulled over, we must have reached but I didn't move just yet. I gave him a small smile and put my hand over his. I laced my fingers with his and squeezed. He smiled. I could see the sadness in his eyes but with me he could be his almost self – why? Well it was because I understood him better than anyone else.

"I know I heard. I'm so sorry. I didn't want to mention it earlier up at the house because you didn't seem ready but Derek you know that we're going to find her and when we find her killer, we're going to kick his bloody, filthy ass," I said, Derek smirked, despite his tears and cupped my face.

"Since when did you become so badass?" he chuckled, as stray tears trickled down his face. I felt my heart strings being tucked at. I hated seeing him like this. It was unusual for him to open up to anyone, but as I said it was only his family and close friends that saw him like this.

"I guess I had to," I whispered and wiped away the tears. He moved his face into my hand and kissed my palm. His chest heaved as he calmed himself down, trying not to break down or get angry.

"Well, I like feisty Maia as much as the old Maia," he whispered, burying his pain for a moment so he could speak. I knew he wanted to let it out and he would, but in time. Right now, I could tell he wanted something else.

"You do?" I asked, quietly. He nodded and the next thing I knew he'd grabbed me, pulling me onto his lap and smashing his lips into mine. His kiss was passionate, hungry and hot, heavy, sexy as his lips moved over mine. I kissed him back with all I could muster, wrapping my arms around his neck and straddling his waist; he pulled me to him by gripping my hips. I could feel his heart racing against my chest as his hands moving along my back, gripping the material of my top. I tilted my head, deepening the kiss and his hands moved against the bare skin of my back, under my top. I could feel his fingers moving along the soft skin on the small of my back as he leaned back in the seat, with me melting against him. As his lips meshed against mine, his tongue pried open my mouth and took it for his own. The kissing soon had to come to an end because I couldn't breathe. Slowly we pulled apart with Derek giving me small kisses and kisses on my cheek and around my mouth. As I caught my breath, his hands trailed up and down my back, finding my bra strap. I blushed and buried my face in his neck. He chuckled and removed his hands, pulling my top back down. He moved so that he could cup my face and move stray pieces of hair from my eyes.

"Be mine?" he asked, I nodded and then his lips met mine again for a small, soft, sweet kiss. Then he helped me out the car, remembering to take my bag and walked me up to me godparents' house. No one was home at the moment. I opened the door and I pulled Derek in, despite him saying he didn't want to intrude, which is quite ironic because he used to just appear in my bedroom when we were younger, completely intruding. We walked into the kitchen and I turned to him. He came forwards and stopped so that he could pick me up and put me on the counter. His hands rested on my thighs and my legs wrapped around his waist, while my hands rested on his chest.

"Stay for dinner?"

"Of course,"


End file.
